The Sunshine Does Not Love You
by barney-mugger
Summary: An alternate Act IV to the Crucible, flowing from the end of Act III. The final meeting between Abigail and John...


A darkened room in a Salem jail, lit only by beams of moonlight trickling through the window bar and a solitary lantern flickering in it's corner. Three men move slowly about the room, casting vague shadows. It is DANFORTH, HERRICK, and HATHORNE. HATHORNE and DANFORTH radiate displeasure, and when HERRICK speaks, he does so timidly.

HERRICK: Yes, Excellency, Hale sits with the prisoners still. He bids them confess, but they do not soften.

DANFORTH: Still no change? And what of Proctor? Hanging at dawn keeps him silent still?

HERRICK: Aye, sir.

HATHORNE: Marshal, be it true that he has not spoken these last three month?

HERRICK: Aye, sir. They say it might not be known he still lives if not for the small amount of food and water he occasionally takes.

DANFORTH (thoughtfully): His wife must be well along with child now. Perhaps- (he breaks off as there is a loud rap on the heavy door behind him. HERRICK opens the door and REV. PARRIS hurries through it, apprehensive and pale, followed by a slightly haughty ABIGAIL.)

PARRIS (nervously): Good morning, Excellency.

DANFORTH (eyeing PARRIS somewhat contemptuously): Good morning, Mr Parris. I trust you are hearty?

PARRIS (ignores the question and begins his spiel, talking rapidly while ABIGAIL stands rather powerfully behind him): My niece has a request to make of the court. She wishes to visit the condemned Proctor before he hangs this morning.

DANFORTH: Well, I suppose she may. (He looks around at the shadowy faces of HATHORNE and HERRICK) Who do you wish to accompany you, Miss Williams?

PARRIS (eyes cast downwards): You misunderstand me, Excellency. My niece desires to speak with Proctor alone.

DANFORTH (slightly taken aback): As she is so inclined.

PARRIS (inclining his head): Thank you, Excellency.

DANFORTH: Marshal will show you to his cell. Good day, Mr Parris, Miss Williams.

(PARRIS leaves the room escorted by HERRICK, ABIGAIL stepping out after them. DANFORTH and HATHORNE exchange looks, perturbed by their strange behaviour.)

The scene blackens, and when light appears there is a single spotlight on JOHN PROCTOR. His back is turned, and he stands rigid, apparently staring at the wall. He makes no movement when a sudden knock sounds, and HERRICK'S voice sounds through his cell.

HERRICK: John Proctor, Abigail Williams is here and desires to speak with you.

(PROCTOR makes no reply, and remains unmoving from his place in front of the wall. There is a creaking noise as the door is pushed open and ABIGAIL enters, for once somewhat unsure of herself.)

ABIGAIL: John…

(PROCTOR turns slowly to face her, and as he does it becomes clear he is in poor health. He is thin, his eyes sunken impossibly deep and dark rimmed, uncut hair swinging gently around his sallow face, As he moves towards her, his laboured walk demonstrates injury, perhaps cracked ribs.)

ABIGAIL (takes in this distressing sight, and her next words are gentle): What has been done to you, John?

(PROCTOR simply looks at her, making no reply.)

ABIGAIL (misinterpreting his silence): You may speak freely, John. My uncle and Marshal have left us.

PROCTOR (laughs, an unnerving, crackling sound): Why are you here, Abigail? What else do you come to take from me?

ABIGAIL (clearly hurt): I've taken nothin' from you John!

PROCTOR (laughs again, the disturbing noise enough to raise fear for his sanity): Taken nothin' from me…on whose accusation does my wife sit imprisoned these past three month?

ABIGAIL (making a noise of disgust): That pitiful wife of yours left nothing of value to be imprisoned.

PROCTOR (his shout hoarse, shackled fists raised): You'll speak nothin' of Elizabeth! (his anger seems to weaken, and he slumps against the wall, his face now in his hands) She repents for my sins…(he begins to sob softly).

ABIGAIL (walking over to where JOHN sits and kneels next to him): Weep not for her, nor yourself. You can still be saved! Leave Salem with me. My uncle's strongbox holds plenty of gold! (she is talking faster now and does not notice the almost savage element flash through PROCTOR'S eyes, or that his hands have slowly clenched into fists once more) We could be on the first ship to Boston, away from here. There be many dangers here for me as well- I've heard mutterin' amongst the townsfolk of riots…(her excitement dims for a moment, and a nervous expression descends over her features)…they would surely not turn on those who do God's work?

PROCTOR (suddenly leaps to his feet, startling ABIGAIL who emits a shrill cry and jumps backwards. PROCTOR menacingly moves towards her, his hands still chained together): Even I, who knows the depth of your sins, still you speak this blasphemous lie! Still your whore's tongue besmirches the name of my good wife! Perhaps my last act on this earth should be one of God!

(Moving quicker than should be possible of a man in his condition, PROCTOR gets behind ABIGAIL and moves his hands to either side of her neck, so the heavy chain wraps around her throat)

ABIGAIL (wheezes, struggling in the surprisingly strong PROCTOR'S grip): John!

PROCTOR (pulling the chain tighter): Do you have your goodness now?

(ABIGAIL'S eyes begin to roll back into her head and her choking noises become more pronounced as she shakes violently in PROCTOR'S arms. He looks out the window and senses the coming of dawn. The approach of his death seems to calm him. As if in a daze, PROCTOR releases ABIGAIL where she collapses onto the floor and vomits, black and blue marks evident on her neck. PROCTOR stretches his fingers through the bars on his window, in a pathetic attempt to touch the sunlight. ABIGAIL has half got to her feet behind him, and when he turns around their eyes meet. She gives him a long, searching look, and turns to leave, but a muttered word from PROCTOR stops her.)

PROCTOR: Only God will judge me white.

(Without another word ABIGAIL leaves the cell. As the door opens PROCTOR hears his escort to the gibbet approaching. He turns slowly back to face the wall.)

PROCTOR: Only God will judge me white…

THE CURTAIN FALLS.


End file.
